Crayon Apology
by dolly shoes
Summary: Even before he was in her class, Mrs. Parker had heard a lot about the young Mr. Bass from staff room gossip. B/C oneshot.


Mrs. Parker had been teaching for years and was looking forward to a well-earned retirement. She'd seen a lot in her career, but the boy in front of her was something else.

Charles Bass, "Chuck" to his friends, had been trouble from the start.

Even before he was in her class, Mrs. Parker had heard a lot about the young Mr. Bass from staff room gossip.

A back-chatting, rule-breaking, chaos thriving spoilt brat who had the ability to melt the stoniest of hearts with a single smile. Miss Morris had allowed him to get away with murder in her classroom, simply because he could talk her round - and Mrs. Parker had the feeling he'd used the large, brown eyes in a practiced puppy-dog look too, judging from the gaze he was trying to pull on Mrs. Parker right this second. The boy had sent Mr. Smith into a near psychotic break, the man had practically no hair left before he took too an advised early retirement. The rebellious Bass had reduced Mr. Smith to frustrated tears many a time but Mrs. Parker simply would not have it.

Not on her watch, not in her classroom.

Mrs. Parker was going to straighten out this boy if it was the last thing she did.

Well - that's what she thought at first, when she noticed he was in her class for the coming year. However the "straightening" had proved to be a lot more difficult that she had at first thought. How bad could one boy be? Spurred on by the approval of his giggly best friends? Very.

It was not that he simply didn't understand rules - he knew they were there, knew why and what for, he just simply chose to ignore them. Charles Bass was apparently to good for school rules. He was wild and cocky and his snide remarks while she was trying to teach were bad, but not half as bad as the cheek he gave when she tried to scold him for said snide remarks. Because the kid was clever - Mrs. Parker had to give him that - he was witty and charming, a real smartass too. But most of all he was calculating. If he wasn't causing uproar in the classroom, he was sat at the back waiting, watching and figuring out his method to cause perfect chaos.

That was the thing. Charles liked his chaos ordered; he liked to be in control of the mess.

One thing that amazed, and, if she were forced to admit it, admired, about the child that even at nine years old he could manipulate situations and other peers to create his beloved chaos while making it look like he had nothing to do with it. Many of the boys shared Mrs. Parker's warped admiration, and followed Charles blindly.

'Mrs. Parker, can't I go out and play?' Charles whined, shifting agitatedly in his chair and Mrs. Parker realized she'd been fixing him with the stern glare while lost in thought for longer than planned. Charles looked out the window where his classmates could be seen running and playing. He turned back to her with an impatient sigh and an arched eyebrow that _commanded _she got this over with. He'd had much practice demanding things off his servants she understood.

'Charles,' he wrinkled his nose at the use of his proper name, 'I want you to think hard about why I have kept you in today.'

He sighed once again, a long drawn out breath. 'Is this about the homework again? Cause I swear, I did it all myself.'

_Like hell you did. Nathaniel may have mastered your handwriting a little better but he can't quite get the hang of the way you do your "g"'s._ 'No Charles, this is not about the time you paid students to write your homework.' She'd made him pay every single cent back, and then do each piece of homework himself. Charles was clever, he really was, but his problem lay in laziness.

'Well what then? I didn't break that window, I already told you.'

'No, Charles, this is not about the window, this is about Blair Waldorf.'

Realization rose like the sun over the boy's face, though he tried hard to keep it blank. She could see irritation burning in his eyes and before the boy could stop himself, he blurted out in anger, 'whatever that cry baby said is a lie!'

'So you do know what I'm talking about?' Mrs. Parker asked.

The boy scowled. 'Maybe.'

'Charles, Blair came to me very upset this morning, she said you pushed her in the boy's toilets and held the door so she was unable to get out - causing the both of you to be late for class. Is this true?'

'No!' His eyes gave it away, but it wasn't guilt conveyed there. It was pride, amusement and the sting of betrayal. 'Well... Okay, maybe. But she didn't have to tell you! Just because she doesn't want one tardy on her record! She is such a squealer!' He sat back, crossed his arms over his petit chest and stuck his lower lip out in a pout before adding in a mutter, 'It's not like she didn't deserve it anyway.'

'And why would she deserve it?'

The young heir's scowl deepened as he kicked absently at the table leg lightly. 'She said she hated me. Just cause I told her Nate loves Serena which everyone knows anyone because its so obvious! I was just telling her the truth cause I'm her friend and instead of getting mad at them she got mad at me and said she hated me! She lets Nate get away with anything, its not fair!'

Mrs. Parker had always been able to tell whom Charles liked out of the girls, even if he didn't even realize it himself. There was a certain pattern of behavior that correlated with how much he liked a girl. He was giggly with Serena, boisterous with Georgina and out right wild when trying to impress Blair, who simply turned her nose up and averted her doe eyes.

'I think you owe Miss Waldorf an apology Charles.'

'Only if she apologies first!'

'I suggest you spend the rest of recess writing your apology.' He groaned but complied without argument. She watched from her cluttered desk, glancing over her glasses across the brightly decorated classroom. He was frowning in concentration, tongue stuck out and pencil flying furiously across the page.

Somewhere near the end of recess the sudden absence of sound broke through to Mrs. Parker and she looked up from her marking. The sound that was missing was from that of Chuck's pencil. He was staring at the paper as though it were an alien. Pulling a clean sheet toward him, he began again, the previous apology screwed up in a ball next to his elbow.

The class filed back in, Nathaniel taking his seat dutifully next to his best friend and listening sympathetically as Charles relayed the torturous time he had been forced to spend inside - yet again.

After the students were put to work, Mrs. Parker called Charles and Blair outside the classroom, the boy with his piece of paper clutched tightly in his hand.

'Blair, Charles has something he wants to say to you.'

Charles took a deep breath, held the piece of paper to cover his face so he wouldn't have to face the young girl's scrutiny and read, 'I'm sorry,' bluntly.

Slightly taken aback - because no way that had taken fifteen minutes - Mrs. Parker cleared her throat. 'Right - uh - Blair, Charles was very hurt by you so perhaps you would like to say something back.'

Ever the perfect student, Blair smiled sweetly at her teacher. 'Yes miss.' She turned to her peer who was wringing his hands furiously, and the brunette told the boy curtly, 'I'm sorry too.' With a sour glance at him, she marched back into the classroom.

When the students had gone home, and after what felt like the millionth talk about Charles's behavior with his nanny Latina nanny Theresa which of course ended with the line 'and I would really like to meet his parents', Mrs. Parker fished the screwed up paper ball from the waste paper basket.

'Dear Blair,' read in scrawny, child's handwriting, 'I'm really sorry I locked you in the boy's toilets. It's not that bad, I know they smell horrid but Georgie's been in there too and she didn't mind. But you were upset you did mind so sorry. And I'm sorry I said that thing about Nate and Serena. Sorry. But you know its true. I don't know why Nate would like Serena more than you. Its silly. You are more prettier and I like your hair. I think you are really nice and your project was really good. Hazel said it wasn't to you but you should know it was. Hazel is mean. I'll lock her in the toilets if you want? Love Chuck.'

Mrs. Parker smiled. She liked this version better than the apology Charles had opted for, but understood that he, unlike the unintentional Nathaniel Archibald, was not one to wear his heart on his sleeve.


End file.
